1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

20. Mirsel (2)

In RPG games, there are always significant NPCs who accompany the player through the main narrative, performing feats or, alternatively, giving them a series of troublesome tasks.

Like Diarx’s Tixel, Mabixgi’s Nar, or Dunx’s Kir.

In Asares, there were a few NPCs who played a similar role, one of them being Mirsel Tenest. Known as the Sword Saint, he was instrumental in making players recognize the Tenest family.

Of course, the part where Mirsel shined was in the latter half of the game when he was a young man, which was quite different from the game illustrations I knew.

“Brother. Your cute little sister is asking. Play with me just this once, okay?”

He never spoke with such an adorably cheeky tone.

Anyway, I had thought that I would eventually meet him when I looked at the family tree, but I didn’t expect such a request so suddenly, and it caught me off guard.

Playing sword fight with a little kid might not seem like a big deal, but that kid was a monster in disguise.

[Mirsel ben Tenest]

● Blessing

◆Sword Saint Evil Spirit Acluras’s Legacy◆

α There is only one thing I cannot cut. It means I can cut down everything else.

Can learn all swordsmanship except for bloodline succession traits.

● Traits

◇Godly Physique◇

◇Deadly Orbit◇

◇Senses Beyond Comprehension◇

Blessings are usually something one is born with, so undoubtedly, this little one possesses all these things I remember.

What’s the current situation like… an average adult facing the world junior boxing champion?

It would be a stroke of luck not to get pummeled like a punching bag the moment we clash.

As Mirsel held out the wooden sword, lost in thought, he could hear Donatan’s laughter echoing in his mind.

“Muahahaha! Hershel! You’re not scared of that little brat, are you?”

“To be so blind… Your master must indeed be a sham Sword Saint.”

“How dare you! If I were to face that kid, I could cut him down in a second!”

“I wouldn’t count on that… but maybe you could buy us some time?”

With my decision made, I grasped the wooden sword Mircel extended to me.

“Alright. Maybe it’s time to play the big brother role after all?”

Mircel wore a strange expression, seemingly not expecting me to accept so readily.

Normally, I’d run without looking back, but if winning isn’t a condition, then Donatan might be quite useful.

And if this monster’s reputation is already buzzing around the mansion, it’ll be a great help in building the image I want.

Even if he’s called a future Sword Saint, right now, he’s just a kid. And it’s just a wooden sword, what could go wrong?

But Mircel’s words to Niasel were oddly unsettling.

“Niasel, stay here.”

[Why? Can’t I come along?]

“No. There might be a lot of blood.”

…Did I make a mistake?

* * *

And so, the two of us arrived at the training ground. It would have been better if there were more spectators, but only a few soldiers engrossed in training and some passing servants were present.

Of course, as the unusual pair took to the field, all eyes were fully focused on us.

Mircel and I faced off on the training ground. Mircel, standing at a distance, held his sword with both hands, readying his stance, while I pondered how to look more convincing before simply letting my hand holding the wooden sword hang loose.

“I’ll let you make the first move.”

I said it with ease, but inside, I was clenching my jaw.

‘Are you ready, Donatan?’

‘I give my all against any opponent, even if it’s just a 10-year-old kid.’

Yeah, right… Is that something to be proud of? But please, just this once, let it be true.

“Here I come, brother.”

Thump!

Mircel stomped on the ground forcefully, and in that instant, he vanished from my sight.

By the time my eyes followed to where he disappeared, Mircel’s wooden sword was already upon me.

Clack──!

The wooden swords collided right before my nose, making a dull sound.

Even as Donatan fluidly executed the moves, a tingling sensation lingered in his wrists.

But there was no time for relief. Mircel’s downward strike was already hurtling towards my crown.

Whoosh──!

Barely twisting my body, I dodged, and Mircel’s wooden sword cut through the air with a terrifying whoosh.

Mircel’s onslaught continued relentlessly. Fortunately, Donatan narrowly evaded or deflected every attack, but to stand by, unable to do anything, was a horrifying experience.

‘Argh! Fight properly, will you? What kind of sword saint are you? A fake sword saint!’

‘Yikes! It must be because of your rotten carcass!’

‘Up! Up!’

Our silent cries echoed in my head.

* * *

Mircel was disoriented by the sense of alienation.

‘What on earth is this person…?’

Neither his arms nor hands were fast. There were openings due to the speed difference, yet at the same time, there weren’t. It was because Hursel’s sword was already there, waiting at every spot I aimed to strike.

Snap─!

It was almost as if he was anticipating it.

It was unbelievable. I had heard he was a complete novice with no knowledge of swordsmanship.

Gritting his teeth, Mircel swung his sword again.

Thud──!

Was it because the swing was driven by emotion that it was unreadable? This time, Mircel’s attack hit its mark on Hursel.

‘That’s enough!’

Hursel managed to block with his wooden sword, but couldn’t deflect it as before. A heavy blow that left a sensation of impact at the fingertips. Mircel inwardly smiled, gauging Hursel’s reaction.

But Hursel didn’t flinch. His expression was so eerily impassive that it sent shivers down my spine.

As I pondered whether to continue the attack,

Hursel yawned widely.

Snap!

Taken aback by his opponent’s eccentric behavior, Mircel instinctively leaped back.

“Yawn… How dull.”

But it was just a yawn.

Hursel, holding the wooden sword in one hand, covered his mouth with the other, yawning lazily.

Crack─

It felt as though the veins in his forehead might burst. Mirsel was trying to calm his boiling emotions when Hersel’s mouth opened again.

“There’s no need to drag this out any longer.”

Clunk—

The wooden sword tumbled to the ground. Then, pointing his finger at the bewildered Mirsel, Hersel said,

“Just one hit. I’ll take the technique you’re most confident in, head-on.”

Hersel, standing still without any defensive stance, looked utterly vulnerable.

Tall but gaunt and unimpressive in physique. It was clear that a powerful technique could kill him if he wasn’t wearing any armor.

‘It doesn’t matter. No one would care if this guy died.’

Accidents during duels are common. Even if it wasn’t a festival, it would end as a tragic accident between brothers.

A different kind of murderous intent flickered in Mirsel’s eyes. Retrieving the wooden sword to his waist, he lowered his stance and said,

“Don’t regret this. Brother.”

“Wait!”

“?”

“Isn’t the weather just wonderful?”

Hersel looked up at the sky, and Mirsel followed suit, tilting his head back. It was indeed a clear and sunny day, but what did that have to do with anything?

“It’s too nice a day for two men to be sweating and playing with swords. There could have been more entertaining things to do.”

Hersel took a deep breath, as if to savor the natural ambiance, and it seemed like he was counting something in his head.

Finally, Hersel straightened his gaze and said,

“That’s enough. Come at me now.”

Mirsel was momentarily puzzled by Hersel’s inexplicable behavior but then refocused.

For Niasel. To lend a hand to his mother.

No, those were just excuses. He realized that he couldn’t win against an opponent he wasn’t prepared to kill.

Tap-tap—

Mirsel charged at Hersel. With each step, his speed accelerated. In an instant, Mirsel’s form became like a flash of lightning, shooting straight forward.

In the blink of an eye, as Mirsel reached Hersel, static electricity sparked from his hand. The static traveled along the wooden sword, sharing sensations as if the weapon and arm were one.

The most powerful technique Mirsel could unleash, ‘Lightning Draw,’ was thrust towards Hersel.

Ping───!

A horizontal slash aimed at the neck. A silver streak drawn in the air was about to reach Hersel’s neck when.

“!”

Mirsel saw it. Eyes unwavering, showing not a hint of disturbance or tremor.

A chilling sensation caused a faint halt in my wrist. A strong warning signal spread throughout my body, enough to make even my hair stand on end. And as the wooden sword’s surface touched Hersel’s downy hair, Mircel was certain.

I must drop the sword!

Boom───!

The wooden sword didn’t just break; it exploded, scattering in all directions. Mircel gasped for air against the backflow of aura.

“Heave… Heugh…”

The aura that flowed through his arm was handled so urgently that it overloaded his veins. It was fortunate that it ended with just this; had he continued to hold the sword, his wrist would have broken along with the wooden sword.

But the immediate problem was the clear intent to kill that had been revealed. Surely, he must have noticed that Mircel had swung the sword with a lethal stance.

Hersel approached the sitting Mircel, who could only tightly shut his eyes.

Tap!

The sensation of his hair being gently pressed down. Slowly lifting his eyelids, he saw twinkling blue eyes within a shadowy figure. A gaze so haughty it was chilling.

“See. It’s not that interesting, is it?”

“……”

“If you want to play, I’ll play with you anytime. But let’s keep it age-appropriate.”

Mircel, with his skin drenched, didn’t even bother to wipe himself off as he blankly watched the disappearing figure.

‘Play? Everything I did… looked like play to him?’

He wanted to dismiss it as a fluke, but the throbbing pain in his wrist wouldn’t allow it.

His pride was deeply wounded, but soon Mircel accepted the outcome. Moreover, he could now understand why he was still alive and not dead.

‘…There’s no way the servants could have killed such a monster.’

And as one question was resolved, another took its place.

‘But, why did Dacel scorn me as worthless trash…?’

Were all the behaviors he had shown just a deception?

What could be the reason for hiding such skill and acting like a mere ruffian?

If the intentions were malicious, it could endanger not just Niacel, but everyone.

Especially if he becomes the head of the family…

Mircel swallowed hard.

-If you want to play, I’ll play with you anytime. But let’s keep it age-appropriate.

Play with me?

Feeling the gap between them, Mircel realized a different approach was needed.

‘I need to find out what he’s plotting in his head.’

Mircel thought to feign innocence like a child and spy on him.